He didn’t often come into her studio. It was the one place that was hers. It was provided by him and he insisted that she be able to maintain her privacy here. Anywhere else in his home, she was his. There was no privacy. She belonged to him and he could intrude at will. But here was her work place and her place to be alone with her thoughts. It was off limits to him, a condition he himself had put into place.
She stood still, unsure of what he wanted her to do.
He pushed off the doorframe and walked into her studio, hands shoved into his jeans pocket. He was barefooted, as he typically was in his home. For a man as wealthy and cultured as he was, in his private sanctuary he was a creature of comfort, usually in well-worn jeans, a T-shirt and sometimes flip-flops.
“We’ve received an invitation,” he said when he stopped in front of her.
She arched one eyebrow. She didn’t know anyone here. She and Lucas had met in his Las Vegas nightclub a year ago. She’d been out of sorts because her last relationship had been a complete disaster and he’d been an immediate source of security. He’d taken her home with him that night and they’d been together ever since.
She was honest enough with herself to know she’d used him in the beginning. He knew it also and was unbothered by it. She cared about him now. In a lot of ways, he was her best friend. Theirs was an odd friendship to be sure, but it worked for both parties.
“A friend of mine who owns a private club has invited us both to attend an intimate gathering in three nights’ time.”
She frowned. “What kind of private club and what kind of intimate gathering?”
He flashed that lazy grin. “You know very well what kind of club. You aren’t stupid, Ren.”
“Have I met this friend?”
He shook his head. “The last time I saw him was right before I left for Vegas the time you and I met.”
“And what are we supposed to …do …at this intimate gathering?”
He touched her then. Smoothed his hand up her arm, a gesture meant to reassure her. And it did.
“You know very well I’m not into public displays of dominance. I sense you aren’t either, though we’ve never really discussed it. I’ve been blunt about the fact I find it distasteful and we’ve adhered to my wishes on the subject. But tell me, Ren, does the idea of being played with in front of others turn you on?”
She wrinkled her nose. “What we do isn’t playing, Lucas. It’s not a game. And it’s …private. At least to the extent of it not being a public spectacle. Is that what your friend wants?”
She knew that it was a particular kink of Lucas’s to watch while another man fucked the woman he owned. He’d told her about his past submissives and how turned on he was by watching another man not only possess her but command her.
Interestingly enough, he’d never invited another man to fuck her, and Ren couldn’t decide if she was happy or disappointed. She wouldn’t lie. In some ways the idea titillated her and made all her girly parts tingle. There was something extremely naughty and forbidden about having the man who owned you give you to another man to do with as he wished.
A shiver went up her spine and she decided that yes, the idea did turn her on. It turned her on very much. But the public display of mastery? Not so much. It reeked of showmanship. Of some fake, hyped-up display of testosterone that did nothing for her. She loved the quiet relationship she shared with Lucas.
“No, I don’t think that’s what he wants at all. I think what he wants is our company for the evening. He’s a lot like I am. We share a lot of the same tastes but perhaps he’s a little more possessive than I am when it comes to his woman.”
Both her brows rose at that and Lucas smiled. “He doesn’t share his woman under any circumstance. I find I don’t mind if the situation is right.”
“So he wants our company, but he wants us to come to his club,” she said slowly. “Why not invite us to dinner? Or out for drinks?”
Lucas shrugged. “For the same reason I entertain guests at my clubs. We’re both private people and as such I’m sure he’s as picky about who he allows into his sanctuary as I am. It’s a neutral place and yet perhaps more intimate than a restaurant or a bar.”
“If you wish me to accompany you, you know that I will.”
He nodded. “I know this. But I’d like to know if you have a desire to go or if you will go only because you think it pleases me.”
Her brow furrowed. This didn’t sound like Lucas. He was a man who commanded. He was arrogant. Not obnoxiously so, but he was very comfortable wearing the mantle of authority. He expected obedience. He’d never been particularly concerned with whether she truly wished to accompany him someplace.
It made him sound like an unfeeling bastard. It wasn’t so. If she wasn’t feeling well or was busy with work, he didn’t expect her to accommodate his wishes. He was very good at picking up on her moods and her health. He often knew before she did when she was getting sick.
